Some moments quietly change the course of your life. Moments that sit with you long after they happen, shifting how you understand yourself and the world around you.

For me, Black Women Amplified began with three such moments.

The first was the night I watched Hidden Figures. Sitting in the dark theater, I felt a stirring I could not ignore. These women, brilliant, determined, and world-changing, were strangers to me until then. How had their stories been left in the shadows? That question settled deep in my heart.

Years later, my cousin Alice Windom passed away. Alice moved through the world with quiet power. She traveled, lifted Black women, and made an impact felt by many yet unknown to most. Her story, like so many, was waiting to be told. Losing her sparked a fire in me to create a space where women like Alice could step fully into the light.

Then came the pandemic and a moment that changed everything. Holding my goddaughter’s daughter in my arms, I looked at her tiny face and wondered if she would know my story. Will she hear about the women who came before her directly from me? The weight of that question was impossible to ignore. I realized I had to build a place where stories like ours could be heard loud and clear.

Black Women Amplified is that place. It is a space where stories are told through conversations and interviews,  with honesty, depth, and power. A place where legacies are honored and new futures are imagined.

This is my story. It is why I am here, and why I invite you to join this journey.

The Black Women Amplified podcast is a vital extension of this platform. Each episode invites listeners into intimate, thought-provoking conversations with some of today’s most influential voices, acclaimed authors, trailblazing business leaders, Broadway stars, and cultural visionaries.

There was a period in my life shaped by deep personal loss. In a short span of time, members of my immediate family passed away, and everything I thought I understood about stability, direction, and identity shifted. Loss has a way of demanding your attention. It asks you to pause, to listen, and to reconsider how you are living.

I stepped away from the noise of expectations and productivity, giving myself the time to renew and recalibrate. Not to erase what I had built, but to look at it honestly. To ask whether the life I had created was aligned with who I was becoming. That season required patience, reflection, and courage. It also required letting go of versions of myself that no longer fit.

The challenges were real, and the grief was heavy. But the process refined me. It clarified what joy actually means when it is grounded in truth, not performance. It showed me the difference between living to meet expectations and living in a way that feels whole, intentional, and honest.

That time reshaped my purpose. It deepened my commitment to creating spaces where women with complicated lives feel accepted. Women who have lived through loss, transition, responsibility, and success. Women who carry both strength and tenderness, clarity and questions. Women who deserve to be reminded that complexity does not make them broken.

My work is rooted in the belief that we are already whole, perfect, and complete, even as we continue to evolve and grow. Growth does not require erasing our stories. Healing does not require pretending the hard parts never happened. It requires honesty, compassion, and space to become.

This journey informs everything I do. It shapes how I listen, how I lead, and how I create. It is why my work centers on reflection, conversation, and meaning. Not to offer quick answers, but to hold space for truth, connection, and remembrance of who we already are.